why had i never seen that before

I’ve never mentioned this before, but last month I created a poll on Twitter asking TLH fans whether they like Clyde. The choices were:

Yes!

He’s okay.

I can’t stand him.

The poll closed after two days, with the first choice having the majority of votes. (I wish I had made a screenshot of it.) The reason why I created it in the first place was that I had routinely seen (and still do from time to time) comments from people saying how much they hate Clyde and complain each time he appeared onscreen. But then I realized that there are many fans aside from my friends here who like Clyde anywhere – I just frequently go to Toonzone and The Loud House Wiki where a few users regularly voiced their dislike for him.

As you may have already known, I love Clyde! And seeing such comments kind of bothered me. I do understand his unrequited crush on Lori annoy some people, but several episodes have shown that he’s much more than that – “Baby Steps” for example. However, despite that, those people continued to pin as useless.

And the reaction to “Change of Heart”? Whoo. While I do like the episode, I wish that Clyde getting over his crush on Lori would’ve stayed – so that he would finally have a more positive reception. Long ago, I announced that I was thinking of opening a Loud House RP blog – it’s going to be a Clyde RP blog, since there are no blogs on Tumblr about him! However, the mostly negative reaction to “Change of Heart” made me rethink my plans – I already created the blog a few days before the episode’s premiere – and I still don’t know whether I can officially open it.

I can see people’s auras… and it’s a curse.

And I hate saying it so bluntly. It makes me sound like some hack psychic who fakes the ability as a means of exploitation and a paycheck. I’ve never made money from my ability. I’ve never taken advantage of it. And, until now, I’ve never spoken of it to anybody.

But I really do see them, and I’m starting to view it as more of a curse. I have a reason for typing this out and I assure you, there isn’t a happy ending.

I saw Wonder Woman with my mom yesterday and during her big fight scene through the village I turned to my mom to see her reaction (I had already seen Wonder Woman once before) and I saw my mom was crying. Afterwards I asked her why and she told me about how as a child she would make sure to never miss the intro theme to the TV show Mash. There was one shot of a bunch of women in military uniforms sprinting and for her as a child that was everything. Women heroes, unsexualized, not for male consumption, just doing their jobs as bad asses. And she explained that Wonder Woman was just the same and she hadn’t realized how starved she’d been for it. She loved how Wonder Woman fought. She didn’t kick to show you her thigh or grab a man’s head in her crotch to spin him to the ground. She kicked in a way that brought her entire body weight down on someone, she kneed men through walls, and took machine gun fire. My mom said that every shot of Wonder Woman was filmed like she was bad ass. She wasn’t posed like she was pretty. She was posed like she was dangerous. And that made my mother cry.

Request: “Can you make a Bucky imagine in which he’s like the bad boy who is really cool and falls for y/n and is super sweet around her?” // I did it as a Greaser AU because I was listening to the Grease soundtrack while writing lol

Word Count: 1167 // My requests are still open!!

The Greasers didn’t like to be messed with. If you’re not at their level, you can’t speak to them. You go near them, you’re dead.

Pacing quickly down the sidewalk, you avoided the glare of the boys in the red Chevrolet parked across the street. A message alert on your phone made you stop, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

Steve: Just overheard that the Greasers are gonna be at the coffee shop. Be careful.

Mentally groaning in fear of anyone hearing you, you slipped into the door of the cafe, walking with your head down.

“Hi, uh, Miss? What would you like?” The barista grinned at you, as you looked up from your phone. “Sorry, can I just have a juice please?”

“What’s your name?” She asked, holding your cup in one hand and a sharpie in the other. “Y/N.” You pronounced, smiling back.

Soon enough, your name was called and you took your drink, walking out of the store.

You looked around before pushing the door open, seeing the Chevrolet had moved. Breathing a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open and began your walk home.

Going to grab your phone from your back pocket, you bumped into someone.

Feeling a hand on your back, you looked up, making direct eye contact with one of the leaders of the greaser gang, Bucky Barnes.

“I’m so sorry the did that to you, I promise I would never have let them if I would’ve known. Are you alright?”

“Apart from nursing a headache and this nose bleed, I’ll be okay.” You smiled back up at him, his eyes glistening as he looked at you. “Shit, you need to get to the nurse.” He looked around you at the destruction of your bag, trying to pick up your scattered books.

“Did you draw this?” He asked, awe taking over his features. “Um, yes, I did. I’m sorry, it’s lame. I just saw the picture on my feed and I needed prac-”

“Y/N, babe, this is incredible.” He grinned from ear to ear, holding the book so delicately. “T-thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” He slung your bag over his shoulder, offering you a hand as he led you to the nurses office.

“I’m still so sorry, Y/N. Can I please take you for coffee or something to make up for it?” He asked, brushing your hair behind your ear as you held tissue to your nose.

An open letter to my husband

A friend of mine recently bought a second hand laptop from a busy garage sale, the seller said that the thing won’t turn on. Being the nerd that he is, my friend got it working and found a strange letter saved on it. He mailed it to me after I asked him if I could share it here. So here goes:

“Dear Matthew,

I’m writing to you to tell you that I know everything that you do not want me to know. I know you must dread hearing this- especially coming from me, but I really need you to listen to what I have to say.

Harry read the article again. He didn’t know why he put himself
through it. Rita Skeeter’s outlandish claims never failed to make him angry.
And he’d already forced The Daily Prophet to run a redaction days ago.

No, he did know, actually. It was the accompanying image. The
one with Draco Malfoy staring right into the camera, unblinking, a challenge in
his eyes. It was familiar but at the same time nothing Harry had ever seen
before (except during his many rereads of this particular paper). Malfoy had
aged. Matured obviously since he was now a Ministry official. There was just
something about his face. The same but different. Harry was drawn to it.

“Auror Potter."

Harry looked up to find that same face at his doorway, focusing a
steely gaze on Harry. He was so shocked he forgot he was holding a cup of tea.
It dropped to his desk with an embarrassing clatter, spilling its contents, all
over Malfoy’s inked face.

The Malfoy at Harry’s office door – the real one – didn’t move.
His eyes flickered down to Harry’s desk, watching the spill unfold passively.

Harry jumped to his feet and quickly bundled up the wet paper,
throwing it face down into a waste basket at his feet. He wasn’t sure if he’d
been fast enough.

He looked back up to Malfoy, searching for any sign he might
have seen. Nothing. But that hardly meant much. Harry suspected Malfoy’s
emotions didn’t play so obviously on his face anymore. He nodded in what he
hoped was a professional courteous manner. "Dralfoy.”

Harry froze, the awful blunder hitting his ears just as it came
out of his mouth. He could feel himself blushing, his palms getting clammy, his
knees weak. Was simply Malfoy’s presence enough to make him come undone these
days?

And just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Harry, not
quite sure how much longer he’d be able to stand for, slumped back into his seat -
or at least attempted to – but misjudged the position and ended up plummeting
to the floor instead.

The only saving grace – if there was any positive to the
situation at all – was that at least on the floor, behind his desk, he was
hidden from sight. He wondered if he crawled under his desk and stayed there,
if Malfoy would get the idea and leave. Harry was seriously considering the option
when Malfoy came into view again, stepping around the desk to loom over Harry.

He offered a hand. Harry gladly took it, forgetting for a moment
the current predicament of said hands. And sure enough, after Malfoy helped
Harry to his feet, he quickly let go and wiped his hand on his trousers.

Harry wanted to close his eyes and crawl up into a ball in the
corner of the room. He never wanted to look Malfoy in the eye again. In less
than a minute, he had made himself look like a complete fool. And all it took
was for Malfoy to walk in the bloody room.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “I just came by to say hello. I
thought it was polite given we work in the same building now. Which, of course,
you already know.” His eyes darted to the waste basket. Shit.

“I had The Daily Prophet write a redaction,” Harry blurted out, as if
that would help. Although at least he managed to get the words right this time.

“That was you? I should have guessed. You never miss an
opportunity to save my skin.” Malfoy’s lips quirked upward for the smallest
moment before his composure returned. “Well, it was nice seeing how the other
side lives. I suppose I must get back to it.”

“Right,” Harry managed to nod. “I’ll get the door for you.”

They both stared at the open door.

Having already committed to the pointless task, Harry hurried
forward and tripped over his own feet, falling right into Malfoy’s waiting –
his reflexes were still as fast as they were in Quidditch – arms. Could Harry be more embarrassing?

Malfoy righted Harry but kept a firm grip on him – perhaps he
thought Harry might slump to the floor otherwise, which was probably an
accurate assumption at this stage.

There was amusement in
Malfoy’s face now, a lightness in his eyes. “Are you always this clumsy,
Potter, or am I special?”

“You’re special,” Harry answered quickly as he didn’t want
Malfoy to think this was how all his mornings went. Although, after he realised
what he’d said, he quickly tried to take it back: “No, I mean, wait, I mean,
that’s not what I -“

Malfoy took a step back, dropping his arms. “No need to be so
flustered, Potter,” he interrupted. “I keep all the newspapers with your face
on them too.”

Harry’s brain short-circuited. He must have stood there blinking
at Malfoy for a solid five seconds before he was able to ask: “All of them?”

“Thirty-four and counting.” Malfoy winked. “You know, Potter, if
you were to take me out to dinner, I’m sure the outing might be scandalous
enough to make the front page. We could add to both our collections.”

Summary; Not knowing whether to stay and fight, or run and protect you; Jungkook gets thrown into a world of fear and panic. Meanwhile, Yoongi and Serrena battle for victory in the silent game of war they play;

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.”

So I thought, why not combine that shit and make it a mini-series or something? I really hope you two anons enjoy it! No idea how many parts there will be. We shall see. Gif isn’t mine, cred goes to the owners! 1,560 Words

Everyone’s heard of blind dates – never of blind marriages, not even in the mafia world. Yet, here you were, walking down the aisle, your hand latched onto your father’s arm, towards a young man you had never seen before.

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to him, let alone this being the first time you actually got to see his face. There was so much rage bubbling inside you at the moment, but it was all hidden behind a small smile.

Combining two mafia organizations together was a huge deal; something bosses usually agreed on with the exchange of girls, but considering Red Python was one of the most powerful organizations in the country, they wouldn’t want just any girl. They wanted a suitable bride for the heir of said organization.

Summary: It was a harmless attraction until you found yourself boldly ruining your entire friendship and roommate dynamic with your colleague, Jeon Jungkook. Alternatively, sexy and lovely times with nerdy roommate Jungkook; romance with no plot. Dumping all 4 chapters into a big post. M. list

Ok so we know that Pidge is a computer mastermind: she hacked into the garrison(probably multiple times), was able to create a complete fake identity, and still created more advanced scanners than what the garrison had.

We know that hunk is possibly a engineering genius: Even if he puts it more to cuisine, he could easily build a rocket engine out of scrap parts. We’ve seen him fix alien power thrusters that he has never seen before, or at least had very little knowledge of.

So why would they place the two smartest people the garrison has seen in probably years, with Lance? Someone that everyone thinks is just an average pilot? Someone who only got into the fighter pilot classes because Keith dropped out? But what if he wasn’t just an average cargo pilot that got lucky like everyone thought?

I headcanon that Lance is a tactical prodigy! A strategic mastermind! That he can come up with some of the most brilliant war tactics and battle plans that would trump any generals ideas for years to come!

Think about him using his gift to help organize some sort of Cuban resistance against its corrupted government( I don’t know the real situation in Cuba, or if anything is going on in Cuba, but just follow this for the head canon…au-ish thing I got going on.) and his plans help the people win against their government, and Lance is just happy now that his family will be safe and happy in their home.

The American government hears about this Cuban boy who pretty much lead the way to freedom for his country, about his prodigy status. And then they find out that the kid wants to be a pilot. And they take advantage of this.

They give this Cuban boy a free pass to America to go to the Garrison to become a pilot, and all he has to do is make battle plans for them every now and then. And of course Lance takes the opportunity, his whole family standing behind his decision to be the best pilot to come out of the Garrison.

Now they put Lance into the cargo pilot class at first, to keep him sated, and for awhile it works out. Lance is doing great in his classes, he’s even #1 in the cargo pilot class, and he sends the government any tactics, battle plans, etc. that he creates. Lance even made friends with his roommate, who is an incredible engineer and friend. But Lance wants more, he doesn’t want to stay a cargo pilot, he wants to be a fighter pilot, so he works harder in school to be able to move up. only problem? Keith took the last placement in the fighter pilot class, and now Lance’s government work is kind of lacking its usual brilliance.(can you blame him? His dream has been thwarted by some guy with a mullet! Of course he isn’t really doing his best.)

But then Keith gets kicked out because of some anger problems. So the higher ups make Iverson move up Lance and Hunk to fighter pilot and engineer, hoping that this will get Lance back into his usual groove. Iverson doesn’t like this, but orders are orders. So Lance and Hunk move up, and Pidge joins the group. But that doesn’t mean Iverson has to be nice to Lance, so he does all that he can to remind him that he’s only there because of Keith.

And then they all find Shiro, then join Voltron, and Lance can’t wait to help the team with his thing! He can’t wait to show them that he isn’t just a good shot, but an even better strategic mastermind! But the only one who really knows about Lance’s gift is Hunk, after long nights of listening to Lance talk in English and Cuban about tactical advantages and every battle plan he’s thought of. The others just think that Lance is just a flirt, who doesn’t really take anything seriously. So whenever he tries to put in his own ideas, he get shut down before he can really tell hem his ideas. It makes him start questioning his talent, and his place on the team.

Then during a mission, things go south. Fast. And Lance tries to offer up his plan on how to get out of there, but again he gets shut down again, something like “ shut up Lance! We’re trying to figure out how to get out of here, we don’t need your stupid jokes!” From who, that’s kinda up in the air at the moment. Then, uh oh! Lance gets captured while their escaping!

And Hunk is pissed. Beyond pissed! As soon as the team meets up to try and talk, Hunk goes OFF ON THEM!!! He tells everyone how Lance is a prodigy tactician and strategic genius, and that if they only listened to Lance than everyone might have made it out safe and Lance wouldn’t have been captured. And of course everyone is now feeling bad that they’ve always ignored Lance or shut him down before he could say his ideas. And Slav is now freaking out, because they have technology that can take information from people’s minds, and if the Galra find out about Lance’s talent, that could be really bad for them.

At first, the Galra do the usual thing; torture, regular beatings, rarely feeding him. But he isn’t spilling anything, so they use that machine on Lance, hoping to get information on Voltron. But when they find out that his brain is filled with incredible battle plans, you can bet your ass that they continue to use this machine to use his tactics against voltron. And all the while Lance is in constant pain, for the machine, from his injuries, and he can’t stop it. He can’t protect his friends, instead the thing everyone has called ‘a gift’ is going to hurt his friends. And he can’t do anything to stop it.

Wow, that was a lot longer than I was planning. but yeah, lance being crazy brilliant. I totally headcanon it. So I hoped you like, and if you got any questions, don’t be afraid to ask them!

This one’s prompt is quite long, so bare with me! So i’ve just watched the first two episode of Riverdale and i’m in love! And I saw this prompt and I really wanted to write it for Jughead Jones, which is my absolute favourite character. AND I have an announcement, REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN AND I’VE ADDED RIVERDALE TO THE LIST. Please, send in some requests, specifically for the 100 or Riverdale! Thank you!

Prompt: You’ve been stood up by your boyfriend and just when you’re about to leave after being question many times, Jughead comes and sits down. Proclaiming he’s now your date and that he’d just been caught up in traffic jokingly, and the worst date ends up being the best.

Warnings: none. only that i’ve only watched the tv show, so i’m basing this purely off Cole Sprouse’s rendition of Jughead.

This night had turned out to be the worst. It had originally been a night you’d been waiting and anticipating for for a really long time, even if it had been delayed and winded down countless time’s each time your boyfriend cancelled on you, you were still excited.

You two month anniversary, which was now closer to being three, was what you were celebrating tonight. Your two month boyfriend, Archie Andrews had promised an exciting night where it would be just the two of you and celebrate all that had happened. It was also the perfect time because it was summer, and with Archie always being so busy with his dads work, getting him alone was hard.

But then it’d been delayed. And delayed. And eventually it was after the incident with Jason, when your date was finally set to actually happen. It had turned into a dinner date at Pop’s rather than whatever Archie originally planned, but you didn’t care so much seeing as you loved the place. The milkshakes were to die for.

It felt odd celebrating after the death of someone who’d been around your age, but you told yourself you deserved it after waiting so long. And you’d been so excited, picking an appropriate but beautiful dress, and done your hair up nicely. You were practically pouncing with excitement when you’d left home.

Now, though, all that had deflated when an hour alter you still sat in Pop’s alone and with no sight of Archie. Those around you questioned you with concerned looks and Pop’s himself had come over asking if you’d like to just order without Archie or if you needed a ride home, but you refused. Trying to convince your crumbling heart that Archie hadn’t stood you up and would walk through the doors any second.

But he never did. And it hurt. So much. After weeks of being sympathetic and understanding towards him and his constant cancelling and rescheduling, you felt your heart break just a little bit more at the realization that he didn’t care for you the way you thought he had. And maybe you fooled yourself think he’d cared for you these past two (three) months.

So when Pop’s walked over, his smile of pity doing nothing but make you feel worse, you grabbed your purse. “Hello, sweetheart.” He greeted and you smile at him softly.

“Hey, Pop’s.” You greeted, waving at him. “I think i’m gonna head home, I-I…” You had to stop yourself as your voice cracked desperately, you’d amazed yourself even that you hadn’t started crying yet. “I’m sorry for holding up the table for so long.”

Pop’s smiled reassuringly. You’d known the older man for a very long time and you always appreciated his kind attitude. “No problem, Y/N. Take all the time you need.” He said, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. You grabbed your purse and moved to step out before a sudden figure sped past you and you heard a huff of breath.

Confused, you turned to see Jughead Jones sitting in the seat in front of you. His computer by his side as he smiled awkwardly at you. You blinked, not sure what he wanted. You’d never really talked to him, he always sort of stuck to himself but him and Archie were friends, or had been. And anytime you walked by him he’d given you a polite hello and a warm wave. He’d always seemed nice enough.

But this didn’t explain what he was doing now?

Pop’s wore the same baffled expression as you both looked at him expectantly. “Jughead?” You whispered and soft voice cut out, tilting your head at him waiting for him to explain.

“Sorry i’m late.” Was all he said, adding to your confusion.

“Huh?” You whispered. Hand stuck on your purse.

“The traffic was bad and I hadn’t meant to be late for out date, but I was and for that i’m sorry.” Date? You furrowed your brows, eyes narrowing in absolute confusion, not quite sure what to do.

“Son, I think you’d got this wrong.” Pop’s tried, staring at you for answers which you couldn’t give.

Jughead tore his gaze from you, turning to Pops with a dry look of amusement. “We’ll be good now. She’ll have a strawberry milkshake.” And with a final look towards you, Pop’s walked off and went to complete your order.

“Jughead?” You asked once alone, the boy turned to you. Shaking his head as a much more serious expression became over his face.

“Archie is an idiot.” He said, shaking his head. “for standing you up like this.”

You stayed silent, letting go of your purse as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ears. Frowning at your lap, “yeah.”

“Listen, I know we’ve never talked and your date stood you up. But I was wondering if you’d like to spend the next hour with me instead?” Jughead offered and you felt your eyes widening in shock. You’d never heard of Jughead, the outcast, inviting anyone to sit with him or hang out with him. It was undeniably sweet and you felt yourself blushing as a strawberry milkshake was placed in front of you.

Nodding thanks, you waited for Pop’s to leave before refocusing on Jughead. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, not understanding his intentions. No one had done something so sweet for you, not even Archie.

“I’ve seen you, you follow Archie around as he barely pays attention to.” He explained, staring into your eyes with a look that told you he knew something you didn’t. “And despite standing you up, you’ll accept his apology.”

You opened your mouth, ready to defend yourself, before you realized what he said was true. Archie had done this a few times and each time your forgave him.

“But I know what it’s like to be stood up by him, Y/N. And i know how much it can hurt. So, I thought that instead of brooding about it alone, I would brood about it with you.”

With a sudden smile, you felt your cheeks warm and you nodded. You’d never pegged Jughead as someone sweet, he wasn’t a bad guy but this side you didn’t know existed. And secretly you were glared, this was better than going home and crying, and he seemed genially sincere.

You let your lips find your milkshake and you took a sweet gulp of it, enjoying the taste before smiling up at Jughead. “Then let’s brood together.”

Remember you can now request Riverdale imagines, so please do so! Hope you enjoyed!

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

You and Jin were going your normal pace to the sweet music playing in the background until you got close. He felt the change in you and began going faster. You were so close, but something was different. He would be surprised at first when you told him something was weird, but when you squirted he got intrigued. “Do you think I can make you do that again?”

Namjoon-

He kept going harder and harder, while your moans continued to get louder and louder, until he felt you tighten around his cock. He buried himself in you only to be sprayed by your squirt. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry Joon. That’s never happened before.” You said as he collapsed on top of you. “Well it definitely wont be the last.”

Yoongi-

You were riding Yoongi as normal, because he was to tired to put much effort in, but still wanted to enjoy himself. You began moaning louder and throwing your head back. As of a minute ago you were in control of, tempo, roughness, and everything really, but that all changed when Yoongi saw you in so much pleasure. He quickly grabbed you back pulling you toward him as he began to ram into you. You felt so good that when your orgasm hit you squirted. Yoongi, having never made you do that before was confused and worried. “Did I hurt you (Y/N)? Are you Ok?” You could barley get out an exhausted “Amazing”

Hoseok-

When you got home you barely had enough tome to put your purse down when Hoseok attacked you and pushed you against the wall. His hand was already down your pants before you could ask “Looks like somebody missed me today.” You said getting pulled into a heated kiss. he began to pump his fingers in and put of you while simultaneously rubbing your clit. This had you all fired up and when you were close you let him know. With this information he went faster sending you flying off the edge and squirting on to his hand. “Damn baby girl that’s fucking hot. Wanna continue in the bed room.”

(This GIF is pure sin)

Jimin-

It had started as a night in with your boyfriend Jimin while you watched movies and ate snacks. Apparently Jimin had other plans when he began to kiss down your neck and chest slowly making his way to your lady region. He pulled away your pajama shorts and went to town with those gloriously luscious lips. This soon had you throwing your head back, and clenching on nothing. Soon you couldn’t hold back anymore and you squirted. You felt embarrassed because you had just done this all over Jimin’s face when he looked up at you,licked his lips and said, “It’s all right baby. I love the way you taste.”

Taehyung-

When you said you were in the mood you didn’t have to tell him twice. Taehyung began to pound into you with breaks of slow and sensual. He loved teasing you like this but when you looked him in the eyes and then moaned he went crazy. He began to drill into you with no specific pattern or tempo. This soon sent you way over the edge and you squirted. Even though Taehyung had never seen you do that before he wasn’t surprised. “That’s right only I can make you feel that way, and make you do that.”

Jungkook-

Two words. Confused bun. While y’all were in the heat of the moment he noticed you getting closer and closer. So was he so he decided to speed things up a little. He was so prepared for you to lose your cool and moan his name, but when you squirted instead. He became confused. “Why hasn’t that happened before?” He would ask. “Because it’s never been this good before.”

✧ ( SHAMELESS SENTENCE STARTERS.

❛ And what exactly does “hooked up” mean? ❜
❛ It’s like a car wreck… you can’t not watch. ❜
❛ What’s that smell? It’s either vomit or fancy cheese. ❜
❛ There is no God. We’re all gonna die. ❜
❛ The hell? You’re supposed to negotiate! ❜
❛ If you’re looking for money, I don’t have any yet. ❜
❛ How do you feel about metal splinters to the eye? ❜
❛ Are you up-to-date on your rabies shots? ❜
❛ I don’t like that you’re getting hurt on purpose to make money. ❜
❛ You’re kidding me? You’re actually serious about this shit? ❜
❛ You’re kinda growing on me. ❜
❛ Wanna see how fast I can unhook your bra? ❜
❛ You make my life a living hell and I want you out of here now. ❜
❛ Half of the world has penises, why do people get so upset about seeing them? ❜
❛ You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me. ❜
❛ I think I’m depressed. I’ve been feeling kind of funky lately. ❜
❛ I never said it was yours. You just wanted it to be. ❜
❛ Wouldn’t be the first time somebody’s disappointed me. ❜
❛ I don’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just… genetic. ❜
❛ Fuck you is what you were invited to. ❜
❛ I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of pussy you’d be in juvie. ❜
❛ I want normal people problems. Like, am I getting enough fiber? ❜
❛ Hey, I think I just insulted myself. ❜
❛ Hey! What the fuck man! He’s/she’s dead! ❜
❛ Oh, could you be a little more vague? ❜
❛ You came all the way down here to talk about my pubes? ❜
❛ How the fuck do you not have a gun? ❜
❛ Sure you’re ready to pop your armed robbery cherry? ❜
❛ You should have seen your face. ❜
❛ You don’t know who you messed with, bitch. ❜
❛ You fuck with the bull, you get an ass full of horns! ❜
❛ I’m not used to having people yell at me all day long. ❜
❛ I have this friend. I think you two might really hit it off. ❜
❛ I’ve seen you put out after the first drink. ❜
❛ You know, I’d hug you but neither of us would like that. ❜
❛ I don’t get why just don’t use her/his face for target practice. ❜
❛ I want a fucking lawyer motherfucker! ❜
❛ You’re covering your own ass and you know it. ❜
❛ You know I used a condom. ❜
❛ Do you know where I can buy a gun? ❜
❛ You think you scare me? Bring it, bitch! ❜
❛ I’m starting to get fucking homicidal. ❜
❛ I will make this kitchen my bitch. ❜
❛ They’re having a party for kids across the street. No booze. ❜
❛ A shrink at school says I’m one of God’s mistakes. ❜
❛ I believe the answer to that question, like the answer to most questions, is fuck you! ❜
❛ Did the two of us finish an entire gallon of box wine the other night? ❜
❛ I can’t handle anything up my ass without alcohol! ❜
❛ I’d be crying right now if I wasn’t so high. ❜
❛ I’m not my dad. You hear me? I’m not my fucking dad! ❜
❛ I would never do half the shit that you’ve done to us. Why are you even here? ❜
❛ Even the homeless get better stuff than us. ❜
❛ I am just as likely as anyone of this family to make something of myself. ❜
❛ You want to get shit faced in the middle of the day. ❜
❛ You have no money yet you’re going into a grocery store. Interesting. ❜
❛ Let’s go get drunk and buy a gun. ❜
❛ It’s a shame when someone you love gets taken away, isn’t it? ❜
❛ If this is a relationship you wanna save, then you gotta fucking save it. ❜
❛ Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning? ❜
❛ I’m probably biased, you deserve better than him. ❜
❛ If you don’t get out right now, I will shoot you. ❜
❛ Still don’t want your family to know? ❜
❛ Did I mention that I’m falling in love with you? ❜
❛ You can’t feel a persons headache by touching his head. ❜
❛ Are you robbing me with my own fucking gun? ❜
❛ How can you tell when you’re in love with someone? ❜
❛ Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? ❜
❛ I’m done living the way other people want me to live. ❜
❛ I think I was trying to prove something, not to you but to myself. ❜
❛ If it wasn’t sex then what was the problem? ❜
❛ What do you want me to say? That I’m self-destructive? ❜
❛ Random destruction makes you think of me? ❜
❛ I haven’t abused marijuana like the rest of you, so yes I remember. ❜
❛ Your turf? What is this West Side Story? ❜
❛ All I’m gonna be thinking about while you choke me out is how much I love you. ❜
❛ If I don’t invest in myself, no one else will. ❜
❛ It smells worse than a dead hooker’s ass in there. ❜
❛ I don’t wanna be me anymore. ❜
❛ Why would anyone go to the zoo sober? ❜
❛ I’ve had so many abortions the next one is free. ❜
❛ I’d trade my left nut for one more hour of sleep. ❜
❛ How do you do that? The nice thing? ❜
❛ I’m sick of living in your shadow. ❜
❛ I never thought I’d say this but you were right. ❜
❛ Where can I get knives and blunts? ❜
❛ I can’t share a room with someone in constant state of arousal! ❜
❛ I’m sneaking antibiotics into his toothpaste just in case. ❜
❛ I got tasered for like a second and I crapped myself. ❜
❛ I’ve never seen you put on deodorant before. ❜
❛ I haven’t had a drink for two days…well granted I was unconscious. ❜
❛ I’ll be in the bushes across the street stalking you. ❜
❛ Is there anything more enjoyable on earth than humiliating your peers? ❜
❛ I need to buy a gun. For protection. In case there’s a shooting here. I’m scared. ❜
❛ It’s my job to tell you when you’re making a huge mistake. ❜
❛ Have you ever woken up naked in the street with no idea how you got there? ❜
❛ You’re either boning or you’re waiting to bone. ❜
❛ Doctors are thieves, they just have degrees to keep them out of jail. ❜
❛ You want me to be realistic? Okay, I’ll be realistic. ❜
❛ I confided in you and you told everyone. ❜
❛ I have no idea what that means but I’m enjoying trying to picture it. ❜
❛ I never made any fucking promises to you! ❜

Most people are born with three names tattooed on their wrist: Their true love, their biggest enemy, and their greatest ally. You only have one name. (X)

You were walking slower than normal, the tall stack of paper and envelopes weighing you down and throwing off your balance. You could feel your purse slipping from your shoulders, and your arms were growing tired as you walked across the lobby of your office building. You took a few rushed steps towards the stairwell, the elevator had unfortunately stopped working. You leant the stack of papers against the wall, readjusting your grip before attempting to ascend the narrow stairwell. Sadly, your efforts were in vain.

Rushed footsteps were approaching fast from behind until suddenly, a body slammed into your shoulder. You gasped in horror as you watched the stack of paper in your hands topple to the ground. You looked up, expecting an apology, but all you saw was the figure of an unfamiliar man with blonde hair, dressed in a suit, hastily dashing up the stairway, skipping every second step.

“Rude,” you muttered to yourself, hearing his footsteps grow quieter as he ascended. You glanced down at the mess in front of you, stretching out your hands to soothe the ache that had developed from carrying the stack. You glanced down at your wrists as you massaged the joint, watching the words written on the skin crease with your movements.

the prompt: Jungkook scenario when your pregnant unplan baby he finds the test when you get home he starts yelling, blaming you throwing things,tells you to gtfo of his life with the baby saying fucked up things. So you leave Korea 3 year later you come back with your daughter and you guys see each other again he tries to win you back angst beginning but fluff ending?

words: 8942

category: heavy angst + fluff ending

author note: it’s time to see how good destinee’s character development skills are. also y/n didn’t leave, jungkook did. hope that’s okay. im so proud of myself for writing this?? I didn’t give up and I’m glad i didn’t. anyway, this took forever to write you can literally see my writing improve as you keep reading its kind of funny anyway let’s go!

So Lance and Keith are neighbors - their bedrooms share a wall -
(apartments) anyway, Lance gets sick - like rlly sick - so he stays home
and tries to sleep it off, but in his sleep he moans ans groans because
even in his sleep he’s in pain. and Keith thinks he’s getting off,, and
bangs on the wall ans then when it doesnt stop he goes to the door and
pounds on the door until Lance answers while in a blanket

Hope you guys enjoy!

Lance hated being sick.

Not that he’d ever admit that he was,
but he despised it all the same. It wasn’t even the symptoms that
bothered him the most, even though those sucked. It was the feeling
of not being able to do anything. There was nothing Lance
hated more than being useless.

Still, despite his protests, Hunk had
decided that Lance couldn’t possibly go into work that day. The guy
was usually a big pushover, except when it came to his friends’
health. Then all bets were off.

He looks at his hand curiously, he’s always had a ring? He can’t remember.

“Yeah.” The guy comes back into the bedroom, helps Stiles sit up and drink some water. “It’s your wedding ring.”

“I’m married?” He yells, making the guy flinch. “I’m married!” He looks between his ring and the guy with pretty eyes in front of him. Oh, no. “I’m married.” He repeats, sadly. He doesn’t want to be married!

“A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. ‘Excuse me’; 'thank you’; 'hello’. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you’ or 'Wow you’re really pretty’. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world’ tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret.”

Derek was the one that brought Stiles dinner when he knew Stiles had forgotten, and Derek was the one that massaged Stiles’ feet when he was stressed. When they watched a movie, Stiles snuggled up against him, and Stiles trusted Derek enough to fall asleep on his shoulder. When Stiles woke up in the middle of the night screaming, Derek was the one that held until he fell back asleep, and in return, Stiles would help him count his fingers when Derek wasn’t sure if he was awake.

Stiles is wiping down the counters and humming California Gurls to himself when the bell above the door chimes and Derek walks in. The next notes of the song get stuck in his throat and he freezes. Stiles shouldn’t be surprised, really. The rest of the pack have already been by to visit him, even Jackson. Of course, Boyd was the only person Stiles ended up giving a free drink to, much to their disappointment. So what if he had favorites? How could he not when Boyd was the one to get him ComiCon tickets?

Derek swaggers up to the counter Stiles is stationed behind, because that’s the only way Derek apparently knows how to walk. He’s wearing a maroon knitted sweater today that looks unfairly cozy. Stiles slaps his own hand down from reaching out and touching the fabric because that would be weird. Although slapping yourself might be weirder. Oh well.

Derek’s as straight as a ruler and he’s totally okay with that. He’s also okay with Stiles being as straight as a bendable squiggly straw. Or at least he thought he was. Recent events have him wondering if he’s secretly some sort of homophobe, and it’s seriously starting to affect his and Stiles’ relationship in a bad way.

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

Derek’s badly in need of hugs, Stiles decides shortly before Halloween. His pack is secure and stable, but he still hovers on its edges, as though not quite sure where he belongs. Will the magic of Halloween night, and a cherished Stilinski tradition, be enough to lift that weight off his shoulders?

(Not gonna lie, this fic hit me really hard. Its very brutal and you will cry most likely. PLEASE make sure to read the warnings before reading this fic, if any of the warnings are triggers to you, then please dont read this.)

“Afternoon Sheriff, sir, what can I do you for?” he might as well try for innocence.

Something definitely wasn’t right though. He took a deep breath in through his nose. That scent…it didn’t smell like John Stilinski, if anything else, despite some of the layers being different, scents change as a person gets older and there were some he didn’t recognise, but the core of it? It smelt like-

Stiles has only ever wanted to protect his family and his pack. That’s not easy to do when you’re human and sarcasm is your only defense. Now Deaton is telling Stiles he’s a spark, and if that’s a weapon in his arsenal, he’s sure as hell going to learn to use it.

All Stiles needs now, to complete his transformation into a true badass, is a training montage and a decent soundtrack…

“That’s how he knew where Erica and Boyd were.” He growled and stood to pace the length of the apartment. Melissa observed quietly while he processed and silently picked him apart. He was obviously possessive and protective but his facial expressions and motions were harsh, a bit wild, just a touch of the wolf showing in the man. Finding out that Derek was a werewolf had almost made a kind of poetic sense.

“I’d guess. I don’t know what happened with them. I know they died.” She reached out and placed a hand on Derek’s forearm. He went totally still like a rabbit caught in the eyes of a fox and stared at her. “I’m sorry.”

When Laura Hale died, she left behind a daughter, Maggie. Stiles (and his dad) have been caring for Maggie since the night Laura disappeared. Unbeknownst to Stiles, however, Maggie’s a werewolf, and she’s bonded with Stiles. Which means he feels extra protective when Peter Hale appears on the scene. (He may have also developed a little crush on Maggie’s uncle, the silent and brooding Derek Hale. Who said Stiles’ life was boring?)

“So, I’m Stiles.” he smiled warmly once he had put his unannounced patient down on the exam table. “I will poke and prod you a little bit to check for internal injuries, those that I can’t see because they’re inside you, and some of it might hurt but it will pass, I promise. I will tell you everything I’m about to do and why I’m doing it so just stay calm and this will go like a breeze, okay?”

Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid in any way, shape or form, he knew a were when he saw one… although he had obviously never seen a werecat before, and definitely not one as young as this one.

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

“They call him the Feral Wolf.” The man laughs hysterically as Stiles backs away from him, fear coursing through his veins. “Feral Hale. Do you know why? Huh?” The man creeps closer, testing the restraint of his chains, white talcum falling from his skin, swirling in the air like the dust devils plaguing the wasteland. “Because he’s fucking mad.”

Or the one where Stiles is a prisoner looking to return home, but to do so, he may have to rely on a questionable drifter.

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

Stiles was lonely; there was no other way of putting it. The Nogitsune had left the pack a wary of him, not that they thought it had been his fault. No, they worried it would happen again. Once bitten, twice shy.The morning after his 18th birthday, his torso was covered in mysterious green tattoos. He hadn’t been that drunk. He’d definitely remember that. Great. Something else to make him feel like a freak. Insomnia led him to his mother’s diary and a tale of how she helped an odd man once who gave her the warning, “Be careful of your wishes three.“ Everything clicked into place.So…he was a djinni. He subtly changed things about himself. More muscle? Done. Better hair? Done and done. End his crippling insecurity? Done, done, done. He hid his new gift until he found himself bound to Derek.With Deaton’s help, they translated meanings in his tattoos, but they were incomplete. A passage of his 'Rules and Regulations’ was missing. Everything was fine dandy until Stiles’ new powers and penchant for mischief and karmic retribution threatened to destroy him, fracture his mind, and turn him into something which couldn’t be contained.Could the pack save him in time, and at what price?

While still suffering from the after effects of the Nogitsune, Stiles and the pack stumble upon and save a trapped fairy. The boy’s parents, not wanting to be in the pack’s debt, offer each member of the pack who assisted in the rescue, the opportunity to bring a loved one back from the dead.

Having been blissfully reunited with several of their once-lost friends and family members, everyone must work together to figure out how to function as a new pack, and how to defeat a new incoming threat.

Stiles is leaving. For good if he has any say in it. He gave everything to them and received nothing in return, so who can blame him for wanting to leave and find his place in the world. Apparently? Everyone and their uncle.

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.